(2001)
#LoveLove #Romance #Unrequited
Through dark seasons past I’ve po… And there I’ve seen tomorrow, For life is a continuous turn of t… Tragedy, and sorrow. O’ the tempest winds of time does…
Weary grey has dimmed the day, Woe as thus to come my way And laden lay upon my mind, Its dark distracting sorrows! Grey this day may thus convey
I’ve heard the music of the piper From where the faeries roam, For it carries thro’ the woodlands That stand behind my home. So when the moon alights my caseme…
Nary dare I tend to touch upon The tangible ordinary, For I prefer the delightful pull Toward the imaginary. O’ be it to ponder or be it to roa…
I awake each morn to chase the clo… In the race from nine to five, And firmly placed am I, in this d… Upon my flight to stay alive. I peruse the paper with my morning…
When the twilight foretells of dar… Then shall the candle burn And I await the spirit of magic With the hope it will return. I hearken closely unto the silence
Betwixt earth and sun the darkness… As each day I’ve loved you so, But thro’ right or wrong my love g… For thus does true love flow. Betwixt the night and day lies my…
Who dares to knock upon my door At this intrusive hour of night? O’ it is the heavy hand of the unk… That stands beyond my sight! Upon the encroachment of the midni…
There’s something creeping in the… A rustling in the pitch, Perhaps it be an angry wraith or e… O’ I dread to know of which! There’s something stirring in the…
Though all around her have fallen, Yet she keeps the fight; No insurmountable odds deter her, Nor an army’s might; She does not bow to intimidation,
Between these Gothic walls of mor… O, here with dread is where I roa… For the misty forms that here come… Are of the dead abroad who are not… They move where shadows lie
Come creeping did he, as death awo… Upon this Sabbath day at the midn… And beside her bed did the dark fo… To take my lover by the hand! So angelic was she, this I tearfu…
Casting dark upon a vacant page Ghosts appear expressing rage And mirrored too in grim despair Troubles loom of which I bear! Tho’ each thought lay blesséd not,
Swords are raised and battles foug… Thus poets live beyond the grave, For there are warriors who are poe… Tho’ not to pen a stave. There are poets of the battles fou…
I shan’t e’er embroil my mind with… Or conflict my soul with doubt, When I’ve applied myself whole-he… In result to end in rout; Thus unto my thoughts I dwell dee…